


Rhyming violet

by Slysmoke



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Bulges and Nooks, M/M, bet, drunk, sex as forfeit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 12:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16284239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slysmoke/pseuds/Slysmoke
Summary: Fuck if Dave would let that arrogant fish beat him in a music challenge !Not over his dead body.He’s so sure of his victory, he’s ready to bet anything.Anything.





	Rhyming violet

Alright, alright.  
For your defense, you had, maybe, just a _little_ alcohol in you.   
The fact you couldn’t remember how many drinks you had absolutely didn’t mean you had a lot, but you probably had, or things would have ended differently.

 

Of course, you totally blame alcohol. Who wouldn’t ?

Coolkid or not, alcohol had the same effect on you than on other people.

And this effect was : blatant stupidity.

 

It all started with this sweet meetup with your friends at your usual bar, SBURB (You never knew what the name was standing for), to celebrate the end of exams.

An idea of John. (Nice, you can blame John too.)

Jade and John (biology studies), Rose (litterature studies) and you had fun, drinking and joking, just being dumb young humans in a bar acting dumb.

 

And it could have been just that, like all the other times.  
Except life hate you.

 

\---

 

“John, you’re a dork.”

That is, you think, an universe’s constant. Probably.

“Look at yourself, nerd !”

He giggles and outch, you’re offended.

 

You love John, in a no homo way.  
You also like him a little in a homo way, but you dug a grave and bought a nice coffin for these feelings ages ago.   
They just like creeping out of it like fucking zombies here and there.

 

But hey, you’re gay for all of your friends so that’s fine.

 

So, you’re totally having the (drunk) time of your life, radiating swag like a blonde texan heater - except heater don’t exist in Texas, obviously - when you poor, innocent sensitive ears capture the cry of help of music being evilly massacred not far.

 

Artist’s soul as you are, you glance in the general direction of the offending sounds, spotting a group of trolls at a table next to yours.

 

There’s a tall one that look completely high, a shy looking guy with horns like a fucking bull, a grumpy looking one with no horns - oh wait no, he had ones, just the smallest you ever saw.. And some fucker with z shaped horns and fins-ears that look like he believed grease was the last fashion brand.

 

This is the two first who are bugging you. They’re rapping, if the _thing_ falling out of their mouth can even be called that, and it reachs your ears despite the noises in the bar, this is just how bad it is. Even noise avoids it.

 

So, like the good soul nobody ever doubted you are, you decide to protect innocent lambs from this lyrical massacre, getting up with a vague excuse. Your friends don’t really care anyway, except Rose, but just because you know she’s a fucking creepy seer.

 

Walking perfectly fine - you’re the coolest, that’s you - you move to the table of the offenders.  
In your normal state, you’d have ignored them. But alcohol make you bold, and a bit pretentious. Well, more than usual, that is.

 

“Tell me guys, you intend to turn deaf the whole bar with your poor rap attempts or is there some merciful wrath god who will kill us all before you succeed to do that ?”

 

Even drunk, you walk perfectly, and talk perfectly.  
But you’d trade all that to be able to _think_ perfectly while drunk, because wow aren’t you doing stupid shit when you’re drunk.

 

The bull blush brown, high one look _through_ you and smile, wow weird, and angry one turn red in anger.   
“Go fuck yourself nooklicker ! Did we attack you about how fucking dumb you look with shades inside ?!”

 

You smirk and he snarls. What a tool, you could have a field with this one. But he isn’t your target tonight.  
“Calm your tits grumpy, just sayin you could obviously make use of some training here. If you could do so without making bleed our poor ears that’d be nice. Just, from musician to another, friendly advice, you know ?”   
Aren’t you nice, you called them _musicians._

 

Bull nods while grumpy choke on his rage, and - oh he has sort of clown face paint - clown, then, is blinking like he’s not following.  
However, grease decide to talk.

“Musician, you say. So you think you can do better than us, chief ?”

 

You’re nearly upset he dares to ask.  
“Anytime anywhere, goldfish. I bet I can beat you without even breaking a sweat.”

The three other trolls are silent, even grumpy, and looking at you now.

 

“What are we betting then ?”  
Fins guy ask you, and there’s an alarm in your head ringing, far under a pile of dirty clothes called “alcohol”, “dumbness” and “arrogance”. So of course you don’t hear it.

“Anything you want ! I swear if you win, y’can ask me anything.”

There’s a smug, confidant smirk on your lips. It’s harder  to maintain your coolkid face when you’re drunk.

“I’m down, chief. The whole bar for judge, you’re in ?”

 

“Sweet.”

With a bit of effort, you could have noticed he didn’t look drunk. Like, at all.

But, ‘effort’ ? What’s this ?

 

The troll stand and walk to the barman, chatting a little, and faster than you expected there’s an announce in the whole bar, about a music challenge, and the crowd is yelling happily.  
You look at Rose, because you always look at Rose when you realise how stupid you are, and read her thoughts in her eyes.

 

_“I perfectly see you’re suddenly feeling like a demoiselle en détresse here, Dave, but I won’t even move my pinky to help you, because I am not a knight, and you put yourself in this mess alone. Oh and also, because I absolutely enjoy when you make a fool of yourself.”_

 

What a witch bitch. She’s right, but still.  
She lift her drink (without alcohol) at you in a mocking encouragement. Thank you Rose. So helpful and full of compassion.

Her two goofy comrades are laughing their buckteeth out too, now they caught on what is happening.

Your friends are so supportive, really.

 

There is a small scene in here, and the grease fucker make a little bow to you as you approach.  
“Ladies first.”

 

You make your most perfect (drunk) impersonation of a swooned princess, and climb on the scene. There’s a guy visibly here to manage the sound, and you tell him what you want.  
Drunk or not, you will make a good performance, or your Bro will have his brother’s sense tingling and will crawl from whatever hole full of puppet he’s hiding in to kick your ass.

 

Mic in hand, shades on face, you’re the star of this night.

The beat is good, and you feed the crowd with what it want, rapping as if your life is on the line.

Okay, maybe not that good, but you don’t have to be ashamed of your show.  
The beat end as you finish, and the crowd cheer and applause drunkenly/happily.

Smug, you walk out of the scene, offering just the slightest smirk at greaser guy when you pass by him.

 

He doesn’t look fazed, and walk on the scene at your place, moving like he’s just in his own living-room.

With few words slidden at a guy, he’s given a chair, and with a little fiddling a guitar drop from his sylladex right into his hands.  
The second the troll sits, you have a bad feeling.

 

For the first time of the night, you’re right.

 

The first notes fall on the crowd, who goes silent in a blink of an eye.  
It’s not he’s even that good - at least, you’re telling yourself he isn’t - but rather the emotion coming from him, as if he’s living his song, eyes closed.   
And then, he starts singing.   
All you can hear is your own doom.

 

You barely catch when he finish, but the crowd suddenly going wild on cheers and whistling help you to notice.

Like a condemned, you walk to your friends, flopping down on a chair and half on the table with a groan of despair.

 

Rose pat your shoulder sympathetically.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

You’re jolted awake by the sound of pesterchum, and you curse mentally about…  
Everything.   
There is literally nothing worth not being cursed about right now.   
Except your shades, sweet little blessing protecting you from the light in the room.

 

Pesterchum rings aggressively again, and you sigh. No relaxed hangover for you today, it seems.

 

With a terrible lack of motivation, you walk to the small kitchen/living-room of your small apartment (paid by Bro, you can at least give the guy that), catch aspirin and a glass of water.  
(Bro is cool but he refused to pay your ‘inhuman’ amount of apple juice. Damn.)

 

You then flop on the couch, waiting for the mini-john in your brain to stop hammering your skull.

 

\-------

 

When you wake up, it’s hours later, and you’re hungry. Nothing a bag of doritos can’t handle thought, so you grab one and walk back to your room, finally ready to give your fans the attention they’re craving.

 

There’s Jade, as usual perfectly energetic and un-hangovered as possible, you never knew how she was doing that.  
She sent you a picture of John who doesn’t have his cousin high recovering, and looks in a poorer shape than you. You laugh and save it, thanking Jade for the shaming material.

 

You spot Rose’s chumhandle blinking at you, but another one catch your eyes.  
It’s a handle you don’t know, and, curiosity poked, you open the conversation.

 

**chimingAnthropod started trolling turntechGodhead**

 

CA : godhead ? you sure think you’re a god and it’s going to your head, chief

CA : i think you owve me something

CA : or, if i’m quoting you, “anything i wvant”

  


_What in the fuck_.

For few confusing seconds, you watch the violet words and try to make sense out of it.  
Did someone prank you ? Immediately, the evil face of John comes to your brain.

 

Maybe.

 

Unsure of what to do with it,  you decide to answer Rose instead.

 

**tentacledTherapist started pestering turntechGodhead**

 

TT : Dave, this is a message for when you’ll wake up.  
TT : In case you don’t remember, I have the pleasure to remind you that you challenged a troll yesterday on a music contest.

TT : And that, as good as your performance was, he did well better than you.  
TT : According to the cheers of the crowd.

TT : You passed out just after that, but I took on myself to provide the winner a way to get his prize, as he informed me of your little bet.  
TT : I would have never let you look for something else than a man of words.

TT : With this, I wish you a pleasant morning.

 

**tentacledTherapist ceased pestering turntechGodhead**

 

What. A !!!  
…   
Good friend.   
You’ll make her pay for this, you promise yourself.

But at least for now you understand why is there a troll bugging you on pesterchum.

With a sigh, you answer the dude.

 

**turntechGodhead started pestering chimingAnthropod**

  


TG : wow look at that  
TG : someones eager

CA : hey chief. Had a good hungovwer ?

TG : fuck you

CA : actually, yeah, that’s the idea

TG : wait  
TG : what

CA : you told me “anything”, right ?  
CA : wvell I wvant you to fuck me

  


\----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Oh my god you’re stupid. So stupid.

Cronus, you’re the stupid-est.

Why did you type this ?

 

Forehead in your hands, you’re groaning painfully.

 

You just wanted to help your friend - your _only_ friend, must you specify - by bringing his little brother and his friends at the bar, and staying sober, so you could drive back everyone home safely, which you did perfectly.

 

More than that, you beat an (attractive) blonde human in a music contest. Great evening, great morning…

Until you ask the human to fuck you.

 

No way to deny it, the idea crossed your mind before. He was fucking hot, even if looking a bit like a fool with his shades.

When he criticized your little companions, you couldn’t help but stand for them. You faced him, won, and obviously enough felt a little pang of black - attractive but arrogant, a music challenge…

 

But you don’t want him to attack you. You want him to be gentle, passionate and…

 

God, you got sidetracked.

 

Panicking, you quickly troll Kankri.

 

**chimingAnthropod started trolling causeGuarantor**

 

CA : kanny, please help me !

CA : i made a terrible mistake !

 

CG : Cr9nus. Hell9.

CG : What did y9u d9 ?

 

CA : okay so, yesterday, there wvas this guy, i challenged him in a music contest

 

CG : Karkat menti9ned this.

 

CA : and he told me “i bet anything you wvant that I’ll beat you”, and he lost

CA : and i may havwe asked him to fuck me ?

 

CG : Cr9nus, we have talked many times a69ut y9ur language !

  
CA : sorry chief, don’t have a better way to say this

  
CG : Y9u really asked him that ? F9r a 6et ?

 

CA : i typed wvithout thinking !

 

CG : Then tell him it was a j9ke.

 

CA : hm yeah it’s a bit late but he didn’t answver so i guess i can do that

CA : wvait, he just answvered

 

CG : What did he say ?

 

The ping of your husktop and the flashing of the human handle grabbed your attention, and you moved your mouse to open the conversation.

Shit, you’d have prefered being able to pull it off as a joke before he talked. You should have done it right away, how could you be so dumb...

 

TG : you know what ? sure

TG : im not a fucking coward but i sure am a man of words

TG : send me the date and place

TG : i bring the dick

 

You freeze for a certain amount of time.

It’s the ping of Kankri’s conversation that bring you back to reality, and you open it.

 

CG : Cr9nus ? What did he say ?

 

CA : god, kankri, he accepted

 

CG : It’s n9t t9 late t9 say it is a j9ke.

CG : Y9u’re n9t g9ing t9 d9 this, right ?

CG : Cr9nus ?

 

CA : sorry dude, I have some urgent to. you knowv  
CA : take care of. cooking, cleaning, wvalking out the dog…

 

CG : Y9u d9n’t have a dog.

 

CA : see you later !!

 

CG : Cr9nus !

 

**chimingAnthropod stopped trolling causeGuarantor**

 

He probably started a lecture after that, but hell if you’re going to listen. Read. Whatever.

A freaking hot dude said he would fuck you.

The rest can wait.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

You want to blame Rose, but mostly you’re blaming your pride right now.

 

For challenging a guy randomly, betting anything, and accepting his request.

 

Are you really going to a stranger’s house to fuck him as a forfeit ?

Yes.  
Also, now you think about it, it’s quite mean to himself, to ask for a fuck as a forfeit. Like he isn’t good enough to get a dick otherwise.

Or maybe he just totally drooled over your fine piece of ass.

Yup, probably that.

 

Anyway, you’re in front of a building, and you read again the info he sent you.

He literally sent you the code of his apartment block without missing a beat.

God, he must really gag for your dick.

You smirk to yourself, and enter inside. Fancy place, red carpet, plant visibly watered and taken care of… Your finny friend is loaded, apparently.

 

You pick the elevators rather than the stairs.

The guy - Cronus Ampora - sent you his address and offered you to come the afternoon.

It left enough time to shower, make a bit of preparation. Strider are always great, in everything.

 

Even if it’s because you weren’t so great the night before that you ended here.

 

Let’s be honest, if your memories are a little fuzzy, you remember him.

Violet eyes and earfins, sharp teeth, gills plainly in sight on his neck…

There’s a sudden rise of warmth in the elevator.

 

It dings, and you get out.

Fourth floor, apartment 13. The little sign above the doorbell has “Ampora” written on it in elegant cursive. You’re at the right place.

 

You ring, and there’s a big ruckus inside.

“Coming !”

Only few seconds later the door open, and it’s sure he nearly run here, only to slow down at the last moment.

 

You were so about to make a dirty joke about what he said, but suddenly.

 _What the fuck_.

His hair are shiny, full of gel. You can’t look away from it. It’s like the guy wanted to incarne all the haircut of grease all by himself.

 

“Hey chief. You made it.”

You blink out of your torpor, finally, and look at him instead of just his hair. Tight pants, white shirt with the few first buttons opened…

He spent hours working on his look, you can feel it.

“Luckily for you I am better at finding an address than handling alcohol.”

You grin a just a little, and he smiles, moving to the side so you can enter.

 

Curious, you look a little around.

His apartment look way more ‘human’ than you expected.  

Couch, TV, guitars, even some photographs and pictures on the wall.

No surprise he was so eager for a human in his bed. Well you hope he has one.

 

When you turn back, he’s not far behind you, fidgeting a little - he’s all nerves.

“You… You want a drink or something ?”

It’s a bit mean, but seeing him so anxious makes you feel more confident.

 

Smiling coyly, you approach him.  
Cronus swallow noisily, and his fins flutters.

It’s quite endearing, you admit.

 

“I want you…”  
You lean in his space, and his eyes widen, mouth opening just enough to let pass a trembling breath. The slightest hint of violet pepper his cheeks.

“To fucking wash this shit out of your hair. Seriously dude, it looks like it’s in plastic ?”

 

He blinks, and you laugh internally at his face at the realisation hit him.

And he blush, stuttering meaningless strings of words before rushing to the closest bathroom.

You allow yourself a discreet chuckle as the water run, and plop on the couch to fumble with your phone while waiting.

 

As expected, he’s fast to come back, and you’re about to humor him when you turn your head towards the sound of his steps.

Your snarky comment die on your tongue without even reaching your lips.

 

Wow. Okay.

The troll removed his shirt to wash his hair, and apparently didn’t judged useful to put it back on.  
As such, your grateful eyes welcome the sight of his naked pectorals.   
Hm, he probably swimmed regularly. Good gods.

On his sides, thin violet scars that just look perfectly nice there.

 

You had few lovers, but all humans, and it is actually the first time you have a naked troll (half-naked, who care) in front of you.

Is it normal that you want to lick it ?

 

Cronus was drying his hair with a towel, all an adventure with his horns in the way. When he put it away to look at you, his cheeks are still a little violet, but that barely catch your attention.

 

His hair are mussed, a happy mess with curls heavy from water, and you can see drops of said water rolling over the grey skin in front of you.

Your pants are suddenly more tight.

 

Lucky you, the seadweller doesn’t seem to notice how you totally didn’t slobber over him.

“Is it… Is it better ?”

Oh _fuck_ . You can’t help the rush of warmth in your body at his question and shy look.   
He seems worried, and you realise he’s afraid that you _leave_ , and that’s both a boost of excitation and smugness.

 

He wants you so bad, violet eyes hopeful, begging you silently.  
Well, way to make a guy feel good about himself.

 

It’s his lucky day, because you’re totally about to fuck him. You first came here like a dare to yourself, but now he’s here, all cute and nearly begging for your cock.  
You can’t deny him.

 

When you stand in front of him, he looks down at your shades - he has few inches over you, the fucker - and nibble his lip, waiting.

 

“Yeah. You look hot as fuck.”

And here, he doesn’t _blush_ , he lights up like he’s a damn beacon and you’re a boat but all you want is to crash against him, violet from horns to chest…

So you do just that.

 

You grab him by the shoulders, bringing him closer so you can smash your lips against his.

He immediately makes a satisfying sound of surprise, followed by an even better sound of moaning.

Shyly, he wraps his arms around you, but it’s not a hard grip - you could get out easily, if you wanted to.

But you _don’t_ want to.

 

What you want is to keep pressing your mouth against his, and you’re not surprised when Cronus’s lips are apart right away, inviting.

And who are you to refuse such a sweet offer ?

 

You claim his mouth, and he literally melt against you, kissing back a bit clumsily but fucking eager. It’s… More than nice.

It’s without even realising that you snake a hand at the back of his head, in his hair, not caring the slightest at the dampness of the black locks.

 

You break the kiss, and he pants against you, eyes already gently cloudy from pleasure.

He’s looking at you like you’re everything he ever wanted and never believed he could have, and both your dick and your ego swell happily.

 

With a groan, you attack his mouth, kissing him harder than before. Your hand clench in his hair, probably pulling them, but hearing the sound he makes he certainly doesn’t mind.

He also press his whole body flush against yours, and gasp in a needy way when he feels your erection.

You’re not alone in bonerville - the motions under his pants, just near to your dick, let you know how much he’s affected, too. You would be ashamed to be so aroused after a bit of kissing, but it’s impossible when he pull back to breath and gaze at you in a heated and begging expression, taking few steps while grabbing your shirt to tug.

 

“Bed ?”

Cronus asks and god the hope in his eyes could nearly crush you, he could probably fall on his knees in a snap of your fingers, if you asked him.

And you like it an awful lot.

 

“Yeah.”

No need to make things linger. You want him, and you want him bad.

He brightens at your agreement, and start pulling you towards his room. You follow obediently.

 

His room is like the rest of his apartment. Not that you pay a lot of attention, you have a hot piece of troll ass whining for your attention, and you want nothing more than to give it.

 

Again, he’s watching you like you’ll bail out now, even though you’re in his room, only few feet away from his bed.

You just have to show him.

 

You flashstep to kiss him, and he yelps, surprised. It makes you chuckle in his mouth, and he relax, smiling against your lips before losing himself in the kiss.

He’s getting more impatient, you can feel it.

And so are you.

 

His hands lower, playing with the edge of your pants without really daring to do anything.

Granted, you’re going to have to lead the danse here. He’s so hesitant about everything, it’s pretty cute but also frustrating.

You free yourself, and he whines, but it stops when Cronus sees you removing your shirt, and opening your pants.

 

Then you’re pressed against him, and the troll is trembling emitting soft and aliens sounds that only fuel your excitation. Not one to miss an opportunity, you let your mouth exploring his neck, careful where his gills were.

 

But he doesn’t complain, quite the opposite. His hands slide on your ass, right inside your boxer, while he gasp and twitch under your ministrations.

The tip of your tongue brush just against the opening of his gill, and he _thrills_ , leaning a little on you as your touch made his knees go weak.

 

Time to move.

It takes just a little push to have him spreaded over the mattress, on his elbows and looking up at you.

He’s flushed and panting and beautiful, nothing of the confident troll that challenged you less than 24 hours earlier.

 

Also the front of his pants is squirming.

You let your own slide down, and kneel on the bed to open his. Your fingers brush against the fabrics, absolutely damp with his fluids.

 

The darkness of the pants didn’t let you realise how wet he is, but now you can’t ignore it.

Under them, he’s wearing purple boxer, and now you’re gazing at his bulge squirming under the thin material.

 

Your mouth feel dry, and it’s a moment before you look at him, not surprised by the worry you can see on his face.  
“Dude you’re a troll. I was expecting some tentacle action going down here.”

If your words are mocking, your voice is astonishingly soft, thought a little hoarse from excitation.

 

Cronus smiles, his shoulders dropping as he untense.

Time for these boxer to go.

The purple thing fly to the floor without regret, and you’re welcomed with the vision of a nice violet bulge, shining with fluid and curling against Cronus’s stomach.

 

And you know that just under its base, is a dripping nook that is just waiting for your dick.

Honestly, you’re tempted to lick him there, but the troll is now making soft needy sounds and tugging at your boxer.

 

He’s not very patient, you guess.

Good, you’re not, either. Here goes your boxer.

 

This time things get serious, and you both feel it. You move above him on the bed, and he lies down immediately.  
So earnest, he’s not trying the tiniest bit to hide how he feels. You love it.

 

You lived so long with someone hiding every and fucking each of his emotions, that the painful _honesty_ about him nearly hurt you, it is so _good_.

 

Your fingers wrap around his bulge and he thrills and arch, as if it would give him more contact.

 

So earnest. You’re so hard.

 

You can only play with him a little before he starts begging you shamelessly, asking you to touch him, to _fuck him_ , and your brain fog up.

 

If someone asked, you couldn’t even say when did you take place between his legs, kissing him with a desperation you’ll deny having, later.

 

His sly bulge wrap around yours when it’s close enough, and it is your turn to moan, Cronus immediately answering your sound with one of his sound.

It takes all you willpower to separate these two, and then you slide your fingers to his nook.  
One enters him so easily, he’s so wet down here - you’d be worried about the mess he’s making, but it’s not your sheet anyway and your brain is totally out.

 

You push a second, then quickly a third. He keeps asking you more, body shaking and sounds of surprise and pleasure escaping him at an increasing pace.

It’s obvious to you now he’s never done this before, and there is a sparkle added to the fire inside you at the thought you’re his first.

 

“Please… P-please I can’t…”

His gaze is purely imploring you now, as if you’re a god and he’s praying for your mercy.

You have to give him what he asks.

 

Another thrust, then your fingers are out. Of course he whines, but the troll also look terribly excited, waiting for what you promised.

 

“Yeah, yeah, let me just…”

You move to grab your pants on the floor, to take the condom you put in your pocket, but he grab your wrist gently, stopping you.

 

Frowning, you look at him - not that he can see your eyes, but he must have seen the motion of your head.

“Can we… Without it ? Please ? I’m not… I never, so, hm…”

You know what he’s trying to say.

“You sure ? I could have the plague.”

 

It’s a joke, you don’t have a lot of cells brain available right now.

“If you’re clean… I want to feel you.”

And he finds the way to blush harder at that, looking away in an embarrassed display and it _kills_ you.

 

You drop the pants. Fuck it.

One second later you’re on him, hands digging into his sides and mouth crashed on his.

The shades clicks against his nose and his sharp teeth cut your lips somewhere, metal taste mixing with the rest.

 

None of you care.

Because you shifted so the tip of your dick is pressed against the entrance of his nook, and you’re both panting and muffling moans.

 

However, something annoys you.

So you take a second to move from the troll just enough to fucking get your shades out of the way, because he’s adorable and giving you his virginity, and maybe you’re just a little weak about things like that.

 

His breath stops for a moment as he gaze at you dreamily, but then on of you two move and the feeling break the pause, getting you quickly back on track.

 

Your hand wraps around your dick, and you push it inside him, slowly.  
The sound Cronus makes is beautiful and wild, his body nearly spasm at the sensation.

 

It takes slow pushing and a little patience to get you fully inside, his nook not fully shaped to easily take your dick.

But he finally succeed, bulge trashing between you, and he wraps his arms around your shoulders to kiss you, feverish.

 

“Please, move, please please please…”

He’s going to kill you.

An arm around his middle and hand clenched on the mattress, you try your best to fuck him no as hard as you dream to.

 

He _doesn’t_ help you _at all_. This idiot press against you, arch his hips to meet your thrust as pleasured moans and thrills and chirps, this is new ? Falls from his lips and just.

 

You can’t help it.

With a growl that have him nearly sobbing under you, you start a merciless pace, thrusting hard and fast in him without restraint.

The seadweller doesn’t complain, rather moaning in your mouth and kissing you messily.

 

It’s impossible for you to reach for his bulge, but that doesn’t matter, because he does it himself. You can feel his knuckles brushing against your skin while he jerks himself off, and the noises Cronus is making are getting more keening and high and he’s about to come, you can feel it.

 

As expected, it doesn’t take a lot longer before he trashs and come, and you barely feel the violet fluid that get everywhere, because his nook is squeezing your dick just right and you can’t even _think_ .   
Then suddenly he’s biting your shoulder and fucking score, you lose it, coming in him with a moan.

 

Dizzy, high on pleasure, you don’t get back on earth immediately.  
You’re probably weighting on him like a heavy douchebag, but you can’t move right now, enjoying the afterglow.

 

Cronus shifts under you however, and you consent to slide to the side, letting him now how unpleased you are with a vaguely annoyed groan.

It makes him laugh, the little shit, and you smack his tight in retaliation, enjoying his offended gasp.

 

You don’t want to move just yet. His body is pleasantly colder than your heated skin, and you’re pressed to his side, one arm still loosely wrapped around Cronus’s middle.

But the troll doesn’t seem to have your love for relaxation, because only few minutes after he’s twitching and fidgety.

You have the hope he’d calm down, but it get worse over time, and you sigh dramatically.

 

“Dude.”

You groan, tired, and he wriggle to face you and your deadpan.

That doesn’t seem to discourage Cronus, because he still looks like he wants to say something.

You wait, watching with interest his sharps teeth worrying his lips.

In the most encouraging display you can manage, you rise an eyebrow.

 

“Hey, chief, hm…”

Cronus is hesitant, but lucky him you are in no rush just right now.

If he’s about to throw you out, he better be prepared to _fight you_ because fuck if you’re going to move.

“What’s… What’s your name ?”

 

You blink. Twice.

Then you start laughing, without being able to help it, rolling on your back as your body is shaking with laughter.

Eventually you calm down, and he’s still looking unsure, so you smile at him.

Your legendary poker face died a while ago, anyway.

“Dave. Dave Strider. You know you’re supposed to ask this shit before jumping on my dick ?”

 

Of course he blush at that, mumbling something you can’t quite catch.

But then, it’s the troll who is now wrapped around you, his face in your neck, and the sigh that leave you this time is happy and relaxed.

 

It’s stupid. You _know_ he won’t throw you out.

Not with the way he looked at you when you were fucking him, not with the tightness of his hug right now.

 

And if that doesn’t mean he isn’t totally fond of you, well, you’re pretty sure you can make this happen with a bit of work and Strider charm.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

CG : _...end of a long and complexe lecture_.

CG : I h9pe n9w that y9u understand the f99lishness 9f y9ur acti9ns, and w9n’t d9 it again.

 

**chimingAnthropod started trolling causeGuarantor**

 

CA : hey chief !!

CG : Cr9nus, welc9me 6ack.

CG : Are y9u alright ?

CA : totally ! nevwer felt better !

CG : I am glad y9u were a6le t9 reta6lish the truth with the human.

CA : actually, wve totally fucked and it wvas awvesome !!!

CG : Cr9nus, language. And y9u sh9uld n9w it is a 6ad idea, y9u’ll end heart6r9ken. I’m telling y9u this as a friend.

CA : wve’re dating zz:)

CG : Excuse me ?

CA : oh he’s leavwing the showver ! see you later chief !

CA : just wvanted to givwe you a head-up !

CG : Cr9nus wait.

 

**chimingAnthropod stopped trolling causeGuarantor**

 

CG : I have n9 idea what happened.


End file.
